


If Butterfly Wings create Tornados, What can Bird Wings Do?

by Watashi_wa_Okami



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dadtoki, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gintoki needs a hug, Joui War, Katsura Fucks Up, Light Angst, No-Wing Gin Makes an Entrance, Post Joui War, Prompt Fic, Sad Gintoki, Tumblr Prompt, Wingfic, Wings, Yorozuya Family, only Gintoki has Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watashi_wa_Okami/pseuds/Watashi_wa_Okami
Summary: A long time ago, every human had wings. When you were born, they were white but they changed to all colors of the rainbow given what kind of life you live, from light yellow to a dark blue. However, now only stumps are left, colored in a muddy gray. No one remembers why humans left their wings and no one cares anymore.That is, until the war and rumors of a winged warrior surface. But even that gets forgotten with the passing of time.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou & Kondou Isao & Okita Sougo, Hijikata Toshirou & Okita Sougo, Hijikata Toshirou & Sakata Gintoki, Kagura & Sakata Gintoki & Shimura Shinpachi, Katsura Kotarou & Sakata Gintoki, Sakata Gintoki & Yoshida Shouyou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	1. The Poison of Rumors and Stories Borne from Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a writing prompt. Haven't done that before but I read the prompt and the ideas started flowing. My rendition of a winged Gintoki because, let's be honest, it's a pretty cool concept and the fanart is great.

The Joui War had proven to be unique in human history. A mess of 'barbaric' weapons against the advanced technology of the amanto, it was a wonder humans ever thought they stood a chance. The battles had been horrific, stealing life after life with little sign of slowing down. The amanto were relentless and the samurai stubborn, prideful, unwilling to fall to foreign forces.

But of all the anomalies to come about in the war, the last thing they expected was for the wings of a human to cover the sky. At least, what little sky was visible between the fleets of amanto ships.

Clouds would loom over battles, dark and ominous as if the skies were crying over the bloodshed. And through each strike of lightening that opened the sky, another ship would appear. And with each new ship, a laser that could vaporize in an instant and would thunder farther and rumble deeper than anything natural.

The amanto had watched the samurai dwindle in strength and spirit. They had no reason to believe the samurai as anything less that Joui scum.

However, those samurai would later be known as the Old Jouishi. And the next battle, one the amanto thought would be the last, only became a first of a New Generation of warriors. They had underestimated samurai and it would cost them. Severely.

So, the amanto charged into the battle with earned confidence. Rain pelted their helmets, thunderous and it mirrored the war cry of their hearts.

They wouldn't lose. How could they? They had the technology and numbers to spare. Even the puny human government had surrendered. The war had been in their favor for years and, at this point, this final push was just a means to an end.

They'd already begun planning for a future with kids, maybe in the country they had just overtaken, maybe not. But they had plans and the Inui couldn't wait for the war to be over. Yet in this rain coated battlefield, the lighting's abysmal at best. All they can hear is the constant _shaa_ of the rain and the echoing roar of battle.

The world has grown blurry, wet, a mass of faceless shadows. It rumbles through their numb minds and pulses within their trembling hearts.

When the war is long over, they still dream of it. Of red that runs so deep it stains the earth. And on days when it rains, the downpour throws them to a time when screams would accompany it, when it would buzz in their ears and they can almost smell the carnage in thick, humid air. Pungent and metallic with singed fur and burnt flesh and an underlying sense of rot.

For how few faces they'd recognized in the darkness, they can picture them _so_ clearly years later (blues eyes, a lock of hair, lips torn open in fear. All stiff and frozen, wounds crusted black and eyes bloodshot and glassy.)

Lightening streaks behind black clouds, offering flashes of _something_ in the mess that is everything. 

The hoard of samurai comes for them. There aren't many, the flashes of light tell that much, but in the gray darkness their swords glint so brightly. So clear and strong.

They roared as they approached, blades raised to clash with axes and hammers and swords twice their size. Blood flies in wide arcs of reds and blues, and in the monochrome of the wet battlefield they only have the lightning behind the clouds as their light. It's bright and clear _enough._

Clear enough for soldiers to witness the carnage, a dark image of silhouettes and bodies being crushed underneath stains their memory.

The Inui hardly notice the field - they stand, stock still for a moment too long as ice blankets their veins and they blink, once, twice, a third time.

A while battalion had disappeared. Gone from their ranks and the sudden chill seeps beneath their soaked fur, sending a shiver down their spines as they whip their head around, suddenly wary.

They were there - they'd been there a _second_ ago. They heard the screams, those shouts still echo but they're _gone._ In an instant, some of them crumpled with faces smushed into runny mud, others... gone.

That was no Samuai.

The thunderous _boom_ of the flash resonates in empty chests. They can't stare for long, can't question where they are. Gone, just like many others, _gone._ Thinking on it will take their lives before long. No, you mourn when the battle's done (maybe not even then. It's hard to mourn when there's nothing to bury. But maybe it's worse to find the corpse, gouged, picked by crows and infested with maggots, eyes wide and mouth open in a final scream - it replaces whatever you had known of them, erases a picture of their smile and fills nightmares. No, better to lose them and live with the guilt.)

But when the rumbleof the next bolt thunders, the Inui shiver, eyes half on the sky, half on whatever demon had stolen their allies.

Only, they see nothing; there's nothing to see and yet more are gone. Weapons clink on the ground, covered in blood - maybe their own, maybe that of a samurai. They sink into the mud, trampled and alone, suffocating on blood and mud, gurgling silently for no one to hear.

The battle continues.

But the Inui tremble with each thunder strike, eyes forward but hands clammy, hesitant. The rain pushes at their vision, keeping it dark and compressed, hair matted to their eyes and they frantically push it away, shaking and desperate to see, unable to rely on anything else as the _shaa_ of rain doesn't let up in the slightest.

The samurai, ruthless as they have become in this war, press on.

_Did the samurai have some sort of weapon? Some technology? Were the amanto betrayed?_

Then a laser fires. A purple glow in the distance is their sole warning before it streaks across the battlefield in a high _buzz_ \- then it snaps into a low and powerful _roar_ , tearing at eardrums and stuttering hearts, exploding with the thundering rain and silencing any distant lightening. It's a wall that breaks through the ranks and leaves a path of pure destruction, decimating the humans and incinerating any corpse in its path. Unapologetically bringing havoc to the deafening landscape.

It should have given the amanto an edge, the samurai freezing and throwing themselves to the mud below, hands over their heads and eyes trained on the far off ship. It should have won them the battle, should have spelled the end of the war, those humans trembling with swords clattering against their army.

It should have, but the Inui don't advance. Instead, they freeze and terror grips their lungs as well, their eyes trained on the illuminated clouds.

It's a demon - a _demon_ in all its hellish glory. It stares down at them, silver hair shining as does his white attire - but none of that matters (it does, it gives him his moniker, but that comes more from the humans than the amanto.) It's the wings on his back - his? It's? - they're black. Darker than the sky, they cover the clouds and unseeable stars. He streaks across the battlefield in a flurry of white and black, soaring through the ranks and tearing people from the ground, impaling them and dragging them into the sky.

They can finally see the demon, powerful as he plows through entire battalions indiscriminately. Now they can hear the guttural cries tearing from his lips and they can't miss the sound of his sword ripping through their armor. His cries echo. Guttural, demonic as they tear from his throat. In a show of brute strength, he slams into the large Inui and any struggle is _worthless_ against a beat of his wings and a swing of his sword.

He's fast, diving before soaring through once more. His white gets stained by red, not that they can see from so far away (but he can, he can and he tries to clean it out, he really does, but it stains in ugly browns that never leave.)

His presence sends the amanto crawling, screaming orders to _shoot it down, shoot it down!_ But how can they? They can't see it. They can't hear it in the deafening rain. They just watch, helpless as white streaks across their vision and more and more of them disappear. Dragged off, throats cut above them for blood to come raining down - it's not all rain, and they realize it too late as guts land on arms and shields.

They howl and swipe at the sky to no avail.

(They learn, over time, to spot streaks of white in a dark sky. And when bodies begin disappearing, it's best to abandon ship.)

The rumors spread after that, stirring unrest throughout nearby galaxies.

_Did you hear? The demon took down an entire ship._

_It won a battle by itself - can you believe that?_

_They call it the Shiroyasha._

_Shiroyasha, Shiroyasha, Shiroyasha._

* * *

When the amanto came, humans had never so regretted getting rid of their wings. They can hardly remember why they did it, but it became a sign of humanity, not having the wings they were born with. After all, humans are the furthest thing from angelic and being born with purely white wings only to taint them over one’s lifetime seemed counterproductive. Or was it meaningless? No human really knows the _why_. But when the amanto came, they regretted something they held no part in. The amanto could swoop overhead, flying in with ships of mass destruction to pulverize the pitiful humans beneath them. And the hundreds of fearsome samurai were little more than flies.

Except even flies have wings to take the sky with.

They are human and so average within the universe they are a disappointment to surrounding galaxies. The humans became less important than the soil that was rightfully theirs. And the amanto made that clear: they didn’t care for the humans, they just want Earth and its resources. 

Although, through the fighting, a rumor spread. One too abstract for anyone to ever really believe but it made humans feel less like cannon fodder. It made people believe that their stumps could grow wings and once more humanity could take flight.

A warrior, clad in white if not for the red stains. _A demon_ , the only aspect of the rumor all whispers had in common. Some claimed it was a Tengu, a mischievous creature, although whether it was a protector or a harbinger of war has been a topic of some debate.

Those who fought on the battlefield recalled the demon as not a Tengu but rather as the _Shiroyasha_. Something akin to a human - if not entirely - with wings blacker than night. And when they spread open, they steal away one’s breath alongside their soul. So dark and all-encompassing that each feather must count for each soul the demon has taken away. Within that black curtain of feathers, one can almost see the River Styx.

Hijikata had never entertained such rumors. When they first floated around, he had shrugged them off. Sougo, for some reason or another, had immediately grabbed on.

“It’s a human,” he had said, so sure of himself and his eyes shined in a way his sadistic nature was not keen to do. And that, more than anything, is what prompted Hijikata to respond.

“A human, with wings?”

“A _samurai_ with wings.”

“Are you… jealous?” Sougo doesn’t flush red. Instead, he looks up at his senior with sharp and fearsome eyes. If he had a sword right then, he would have swung it no doubt. Instead, he huffs and turns his head.

“Aneue!” Sougo rushes to his sister and she, with a bright smile and laughter bubbling from her lips, welcomes him into her embrace. She takes her time pampering the young boy, asking him all sorts of questions with eyes never leaving his open face. When she turns to Hijikata, her demeanor changes. Not negatively, but it’s a shift and one Sougo always notices. Her grabs hold of her in a white knuckled grip (not her arm, her clothing, he'd never hurt her.) “Aneue, do you believe the rumors?”

“What rumors, Sou-chan?” Hijikata almost stops the dumb kid; they shouldn’t be talking about something as awful as that war. They're far from the war front, (although Hijikata knows it scrapped close. He'd seen an overabundance of crows and smoke would take to the horizon every now and then,) but it's still dangerous to bring up. Talking about the war could be borderline treason and doing it any different way left a bad taste in their mouths.

Plus, Hijikata has noticed and increase in government officials. One had even spoken to Kondo. It'd been left him pacing outside - he didn't know why they had appeared and Kondo wouldn't tell him. They could take Kondo away. They could take him without a word and without a fight. Hijikata made no promises for himself, he would fight it, but he wouldn't let anyone else. After all, he's famously thorny and the others wouldn't be suspected.

“The rumors of the winged warrior." Sougo's brow's raise as the words fall from his lips. Hijikata notices the moment Mitsuba realizes what conversation they’re having, her smile dropping and brows fall. So, sweetly and without stopping Sougo, she moves the conversation to a more secure location.

“They’re just rumors,” Hijikata says and Sougo spins on him so fast his neck pops. Now his cheeks are red, whether in anger or embarrassment Hijikata can't be sure though it's most likely the former.

“But all rumors have a seed of truth, Sou-chan,” Mitsuba consoles but she sends Hijikata a readable look. So Hijikata bows out of the conversation, intercepting every now and again when he sees that Mitsuba needs it, or wants it.

He may have a stick up his ass, or so Sougo never fails to mention, but he’s not an idiot. And although he’ll never fall into a relationship with her, he still cares for her. Cares enough to put up with Sougo’s constant attacks (even if they have begun getting physical in a strange homicidal way.)

Hopefully he’ll grow out of that.

“Aneue, your wings would be white.” Mitsuba only smiles at that and places a hand on her young brother’s head. “ _That_ Bastard's would be black.”

“His name’s Hijikata, and you should be nicer to him.” While Mistuba defends Hijikata, the man in question says nothing.

His wings would be black, wouldn’t they? At least a dark and probably ugly brown. But Mitsuba’s wings? They would be pure white and beautiful, he’s sure. He'd bet Sougo wasn't even _born_ with white wings. They’d be on their way to black, that’s for sure. Blue, maybe? Their end like the night sky? Not that they’ll ever know. And not like Hijikata genuinely cares. But sometimes, when he gets bored, he thinks about it. Everyone does. But it makes him more than aware of the disappearing stumps on his back. Before long, those stumps will be little more than tiny bones in a human’s back.

So there’s no way there’s a samurai out there fighting with wings black as night.

There’s just no way.

But the rumors don’t stop. They only grow and spread. Far and wide, reaching even the stars themselves. The swordless samurai in the fields could almost taste victory when they talked of those wings but the country was never fooled. Not by the rumors of a terrifying warrior. Against the amanto forces, there was never any question as to who would win.

And so when it ended people didn’t really ask about that warrior. But that would never be enough to stop the rumors. They just fell into folklore and children stories, both on Earth and elsewhere.

But if such a warrior existed, they would know, wouldn’t they? No human could hide those wings and _nothing_ can hide away from the growing society that is Oedo.

So they can’t exist and that demon fell out of reality, into a realm where rumors grow horns and stories spread from nothing.


	2. Chapter Titles are a Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Typically for a bird to have children they need to lay eggs.

The war has been over for years and amanto walk the streets of Oedo like they own the place. And they do, in a sense. They took over and left the scraps for the ex-samurai. The transition had been difficult and it still isn't easy, most of society hasn’t recovered.

The samurai are gone, swordsmith’s are obsolete, and dojo’s, once places of strength, are little more than buildings to be repurposed.

Except one.

While the Shimura’s have been struggling their entire life, they were too young to be aware of most of it. Then their father died. The children fought for as long as they could. Shinpachi, the younger of the two, immediately went out job searching while his older sister Tae managed the grounds. Maybe someone would want to come there anyway. Maybe the sword ban hadn’t destroyed everyone’s samurai spirit. Maybe they could do this.

Their prayers get answered... in a hyperactive ball of destruction.

“Hello? Hellooooo!” Shinpachi had just been fired from his fifth job - _useless_ , they always tell him, _a baboon could do this. In fact, I’ll just hire one instead of you!_ \- so he’s at the dojo when they hear the call. They didn't even bother knocking, just screamed from the get go. _"Heeelllooo!"_

Both him and Tae are at the door in a moment. This had been happening a lot lately, someone coming to their door without any prerequisite. Some people (kids, really) think the building is abandoned. But others have come for much less... friendly reasons.

“Is it them?” Shinpachi asks but Tae doesn’t respond. Without a glance his way, she just straightens herself and slides the door open.

They look down.

“If I join your do-uh, doojoo, you will feed me, yes?” It's a girl, a little girl with a young face and bright eyes. She's looking up at them from under her umbrella even though there isn't a cloud in sight. Shinpachi isn't sure what he should mention first, her barbaric attitude or the obvious lack of social skills.

“D-doojoo?” Shinpachi gawks at her - the _audacity._ They’re hardly open and she just - really?

“It’s a dojo,” Tae says but theirs a smile on her face, tilted and with mirth in her eyes. The kid has confidence for days and Shinpachi knows his sister can't ignore that.

“Yup, a doojoo.”

“Do you have ears, it’s _do-jo_ ,” Shinpachi emphasizes with a groan, although when his sister places a hand on his shoulder he huffs and sinks further. They both look at the girl. She’s hardly fazed by the interaction, so she just stares at them and waits. Bright eyes blinking as she looks between the two.

“Why are you here?”

“I’ve heard you’re in trouble, yes? And I am too: I’m hungry.” Then she _walks in_. She just closes her umbrella, (hits Shinpachi in the head with it, _by accident_ , she claims,) and _walks in._ She starts looking around, gasps trickling from her lips. “Whoa, so this is a doojoo.”

“Dojo,” Shinpachi drones but he just rolls his eyes, sighing as Tae laughs.This girl's just like his sister, stubborn and any push to change is more of a tireless endeavor. 

“Okay, I’ve decided,” she says and spins to them. Her smile is wide and bright and she’s pointing at them with one finger, “I’ll protect this place for you!”

“Eh?!”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Otae asks through a laugh. Really, this little kid, what could she do? But there’s a gleam in her eyes that the Shimura siblings can’t deny.

“Don’t you worry, yes, I’m strung!”

“I think you mean ‘strong,’” Shinpachi deadpans.

"I'm Kagura, yes!"

The Shimura siblings end up following her through their house _(their_ house, thankyouverymuch.) They act as guides, something they haven't had to be in a long time (it's a bit nostalgic, reminding them of a time with a father and a brother that did all the training.) Shinpachi explains how their dojo works, or used to work, and Tae describes their day to day life. 

Kagura hardly looks at them while they speak. Her gaze flicks to everything in the room. Old practice swords, a variety of weaponry - no real swords though, not really. She licks her lips and beams at them as she asks her questions. More spill from her lips than she can count.

Mostly, she asks about samurai. Their weapons, their ethics, _samurai._ Of course they answer. Well, they answer what they can but her questions become more specific. Until she asks more about the war - the Joui War.

Shinpachi and Tae share a look as Kagura rambles about old strategies and vibrates in anticipation. She already seemed to know a lot - too much, in fact. And some were oddly obscure things the siblings didn't even know. Her eyes sparkled as she rattled on and on, soon falling more to herself than the warriors.

Apparently, her mother, _Mami,_ as she says so affectionately, would teach her that samurai were warriors. They weren't how the others spoke of them - naively stubborn without any sense for themselves, for anything, and fighting a war so pointless. No, instead she had taught her how they fought with steel and heart and pride. _Bushido,_ Shinpachi breathes as he hears her ramble on and on about something he hadn't thought of in a long time. It stirs in his heart and bubbles to his toes, warm and thick:

Pride, a beautiful and terrifying thing the people of Japan haven't felt in too long. Pride in being samurai, pride in who they are, pride in their country.

In that moment, Shinpachi nor Tae care about whether or not Kagura is an amanto or the sister of the Shogun himself (although they're pretty sure she's just another orphan of war.) None of that matter and it used to mean _everything._ But her eyes shine and she smiles as giggles trickle out, question after question pouring from her.

She's one of them.

But they still have questions and for all her rambling, she's been successful in avoiding them.

"Ano," Shinpachi interrupts but she only slows down, "um - where are your - your parents?"

She stops abruptly. She blinks for a moment and, as her gaze drifts down, she swings her umbrella from her shoulder to the ground and leans on it. Not unlike a samurai.

"Well, Papi - Mami, she died, and Papi, he..." She blinks rapidly as he chin falls to her chest, grip whitening on her umbrella.

The Shimura siblings don't press. Shinpachi turns quickly to his sister, brows creased as he worries his lips between his teeth. He shouldn't have asked, he shouldn't have - but what if she did have parents? Parents that were missing her?

Tae steps forward, movements steady and sure as she approaches the girl. She places a light hand on the girls head. She embraces Kagura and, slowly, Kagura hugs Tae back. Shinpachi doesn't join, He just watches and a smile finds itself on his face.

"Welcome to the Shimura Dojo," she whispers into vermillion hair.

Kagura falls into their lives seamlessly - if frayed, broken seams were preferable. She refuses to do any chores outside of the unused dojo, leaving her to meaningless tasks. But they make her happy - she began immediately. Raced herself to the dojo and threw open the closets.

By the next morning, they have nothing left to eat in the entire house and Kagura expects more.

“Thirds!”

"Th-thirds? Thirds! You’ve eaten everything we have!” She may be family but Shinpachi has reached his limit. She just ate everything they have and they don’t even have a source of income left! She might single-handedly lose them the dojo (although that has been a long way coming anyway.)

What is this girl! She’s a gorilla - actually, no wonder his sister took her in. Two peas in a pod, those two. But what were they going to do about the dojo? And now food? Their budget won’t allow them to feed that blackhole for long and when it runs out (because it will - it already has,) Shinpachi isn’t sure _what_ will happen.

As their luck - or lack thereof - would dictate, an answer of sorts comes.

 _These_ amanto don’t bother knocking.

Instead, they force their way in and Shinpachi rushes to intercept them. He trembles in their presence and halfway to dropping his practice sword - they've never been _this_ aggressive before. But Kagura's here and she shouldn't have to deal with this, this isn't her problem.

“We’re here for the money you owe us,” they say with their disgusting gazes trailing along the dojo walls. Tae is there in an instant but Kagura hangs back and watches for a moment, unnoticed and silent. They yell at the kids, asking for what their father owes with no ifs, ands, or buts. And if they want to argue, well, that doesn’t change a thing. Not when they have all the proper documents and it’s an amanto’s word against a samurai’s.

“Are they bugging you, Anego?” Kagura finally speaks up.

 _Anego?_ Shinpachi gapes at her but his sister seems hardly fazed by the title. Instead, Tae looks back to the girl.

“Kagura, it’s okay just-” an amanto then decides to grab Tae’s arm and yanks her forward. She gasps and jolts with him, a wince crinkling her eyes.

Shinpachi freezes at her cry and his knees lock, eyes chillingly wide.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you monkey!”

They can _hear_ the snap of Kagura’s anger. The next instant, she’s in the air, umbrella in hand and eyes shining brightly. They almost glow red but Shinpachi knows her eyes are blue, they must be seeing things (they're red, dark and dangerous.) The amanto stumble away, pulling at each other's clothing (and noses, one of them grabs the green guy by his long nose. He squawked.)

She doesn't listen to their confused exclamations and angry hisses, she doesn't need to. When she lands her umbrella is soon pointed towards them, mere inches away from those long noses.

“You’re the monkey’s, yes?” There's a small _click_ before the barrage of sound that is gunfire.

The series of bullets are hardly dodged - if at all - and the amanto scream as they run away. Kagura doesn't blink at their fear - although, her gaze does linger on the singular splatter of blood. It's small splatter against the white wall. She manages to tear her gaze away from it, if only to make sure they don't return. Then she blows the rest of the smoke from the umbrella’s end and turns to the Shimura siblings.

“Problem solved.” She smirks at them in a sort of _I-told-you-so_ smugness.

The siblings blink, their gaze flicking between the holes in their walls to the girl with the weaponized umbrella.

“Oh,” is all Tae says as she covers her mouth with a hand.

“ _Eh!_ What is that, _who are you?!_ ” Shinpachi spirals, eyes flicking between the door and the person - person, is she a person? Do people do that? What did she even _do?_

“I’m Kagura.”

“B-b-b-b-b-bu-”

“Thank you, Kagura," Tae says and she means it. She isn't sure what they would have done without this powerhouse of a girl. After all, they owe those amanto money and her fighting them would have led to bigger issues than losing their home. But Kagura facing them? That should prolong it. Plus, it's a victory in a time when the Shimura family had expected no such thing. "Want to go shopping?”

“I’ll protect you, Anego!” The young girl salutes the older Shimura with a sharp click of her heels.

They’re gone before Shinpachi has the chance to ask any more questions.

“Aneue?”

* * *

The sun has travelled through the sky and neither have come back. So, Shinpachi finds himself pacing the dojo. _They’re fine, they’re both strong, they’re fine_.

Except, he knows they’re not.

They can’t be. Even if Otae had wanted to show Kagura around - or vice-versa, Kagura might try to drag his sister around - they would have dropped the food off first. And the trip itself only takes Shinpachi an hour, maybe two if he’s with Tae and has to convince her to buy more than eggs.

Yet it's evening now and they're not back.

So he leaves, but before doing so he grabs a practice sword. He’s not good for much, he knows that, and in terms of fighting he has no experience. But if he has to do something, he will. He will at least try. He has to.

The sunset's on the horizon by the time Shinpachi has decided something _must_ have happened. He's been out and checking all of his sister's go-to's and he's been through the market three times. The street lights flicker on flickering, old crusted yellow sparking into view.

“Aneue? Kagura? Aneue!” He calls again and again at each corner. The alley's are too dark and each person the passes might be an amanto, might be someone that has fired Shinpachi, might hate him because he's human. What is he supposed to do when he can't see? What _can_ he do? “Aneue! Kagura! _Aneue!_ ”

Now he’s running. He pants and sweats but doesn’t let go of his sword. But what had he expected to do with it anyway? Kagura has proven her strength, so if they got captured what good could he do to save them? Her umbrella can shoot, what can he do but some jagged moves rusty from disuse?

The night's gotten cold. There are tears in his eyes that both freeze and burn and it’s too dark to see but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. He needs to find them, he needs to-

He slams into nothing - except, the wall of black _grunts_ at the impact. It doesn’t fall. Shinpachi, however, does.

He falls right on his butt like some sorry excuse of a hero. He wipes the tears from his eyes, too confused to immediately apologize.

That black wall turns around and Shinpachi freezes.

It’s not a wall - it’s _wings_.

They’re huge and black as night, practically invisible if not for the light behind them.

But the person in question isn’t an amanto. He doesn’t look like any amanto Shinpachi has ever seen, at least. In fact, he looks very much human - except for the wings.

Shinpachi's brain glitches at the thought. A human? With wings? Impossible, right? But he's more than aware of the bumps on his back from when humans had wings, so who was to say it was impossible? But he's probably an amanto. An angel of death, maybe (unlikely.) But while he has silver hair his face is too stoic for any angel.

Then he sticks a pinky in his nose.

“Oi, ain’t you gon’ say sorry?” The words are slurred - _he’s drunk_ , Shinpachi realizes though the man's face isn't as flushed as Shinpachi. But not drunk enough for Shinpachi to have thrown him out of balance.

“Ah,” he sniffles, “sorry.” The man’s gaze doesn’t shift but he reaches out a hand - not the one that was in his nose, thank God. Shinpachi takes it knowing full well that the dunkard won't be any help.

Except, Shinpachi doesn't have any time to adjust for the strength that pulls him from the ground.

His breath hitches as he catches air - he _literally_ finds himself in the air with feet flailing, a cry stuck in his throat. It's only for a moment, a half second of confusion and weightlessness.

That man could _easily_ throw him across the street, or two, or three.

“You’re too young t’ be in this district so late,” he drawls with a tilt of his head. _His eyes are red,_ Shinpachi notices and a chill shoots down his spine.

“I, uhm.” again Shinpachi sniffles, a heaviness returns to his gut and he sags.

He's out looking for his sister and someone he just met and they've been gone for hours. He's never fought for _anything_ in his life and the one time he needs to, _he can't_.

They’re long gone and there’s nothing he can do. His sister's _gone._

“Eh? Oh, he’s crying.” Shinpachi hardly notices the new tears but the mysterious man does. Soon, there’s a cloth pressed to his palm. Shinpachi properly folds the fabric, fingers trembling but it goes well enough. He dabs at his face. It isn't soft, a ragged cloth, but it helps. The tears, however, don't stop. He sobs, dryly, and his chest thickens. “Bad breakup, eh? You’re too young but I can get you a drink. You're payin'.”

“No!” Shinpachi pushes away from the man, physically doing so by pressing against that broad chest. He doesn't budge. Shinpachi stares at him for a moment. He's tall but Shinpachi doesn't move, just stares and clenches his fists. “I - I can’t find my sister.”

“Your sister?” The dull tone doesn't throw Shinpachi off, he felt a shift. He can't tell how, but the man, without moving a muscle, he shifted (or maybe Shinpachi's imagining something he wants to see, but it keeps him going.) So Shinpachi lets his fears trickle from his lips and the tears once again burn behind his eyes.

He doesn't do anything. Nothing to comfort the boy from his fears, nothing to stop the tears. Those red eyes just bore into him as stoic as a demon.

 _I’m an idiot_ , Shinpachi sniffles. Why is he telling this stranger everything? The man clearly doesn’t care.

But... he can't give up.

“Then we better get moving.”

“Eh?” Shinpachi notices the wooden sword at the mans side. _Is he… a samurai?_ But he’s an amanto; he has wings. So how can he be a samurai?

Shinpachi doesn’t really get the chance to ask. The man’s already walking away and he almost disappears behind those night wings. But he stops, and he turns just enough for Shinpachi to catch the tips of silver hair.

Maybe angels do exist.

“You comin’?” His eyes are a deep red and look like a dead fish, yet Shinpachi notices the shine in them. He wants to help. This strong winged samurai-amanto-thing wants to help some poor jobless cherry boy.

“Yes!” Shinpachi races after. They walk in the dark and by places Shinpachi can admit he's scared of. “Ano, what’s your name? I’m Shimura Shinpachi.”

“Gintoki,” he says, “but you can call me Gin-san.” Shinpachi doesn’t ask about a last name. If he's an amanto, he might not have one. Kagura didn't give one either. So, he looks around as Gintoki heads into places, asking if anyone has seen someone called Tae or Kagura.

“What do they look like?” Gintoki finally questions as they head around the street.

“Aneue has short brown hair and a pink kimono.”

“And Kagura?”

“She’s… a red Chinese dress. And she has a big - purple... umbrella gun.” At that, the man freezes.

“An umbrella?” The question takes Shinpachi off-guard. Wasn't the _gun_ part the heart-stopper?

“Yes?” Gintoki then looks around the street and eyes the alleyways.

“Is she a yato?”

“A what?” Gintoki sighs at the young kid and pats his head.

“You poor cherry boy. She’s an amanto, one of the strongest in the galaxy. Man, what kind of luck do you have?”

“Really? Then… are they okay?” Gintoki doesn’t respond as he heads for an alley. “Gin-san?” The man walks in... and immediately disappears. Shinpachi races after, a cry on his lips.

He hits that wall of feathers sooner than he thought. It makes his head spin and his jaw clamps shut. This time, though, Gintoki is able to grab the boys arm before he falls. And in his other hand is a purple umbrella.

“That’s hers.” He then looks up at the man. “How did you spot it?” 

"Strawberry milk."

"What?" But the man doesn't elaborate. Instead, he looks further in the alley. Shinpachi follows, swiping a foot out before stepping. He can hardly see a thing but Gintoki walks through it with ease. This time, when he stops Shinpachi is ready for it. But his eyes are straining and the headache isn’t far away. Gintoki looks like nothing more than an outline against his dark surroundings. Large and all encompassing for the small cherry boy. But not terrifying, not with how he picks his nose and lazily drawls about strawberry milk.

Shinpachi supposes that's the only reason this winged man isn't intimidating. That and the fact that nobody with a perm can be all that bad.

“Who would be after you and your sister?”

“Debt collectors,” he says but his confidence - what little he had - drains into the ground. It's a noticeable chance in demeanor, one that makes the boy's shoulders sag and his gaze droop. 

“Aren’t you a bit young for them to be after you? How’d you fall into debt?”

“It’s our fathers and when he passed... ” Gintoki looks at the young boy before sighing and grabbing the boy by his shoulders. Shinpachi almost expects the man to comfort him, but with a shovehe's being spun around. For how little he can see, he just knows the brick wall of the alley is inches from his face. _Way_ too close for comfort. _What?_ The word hardly processes.

“Brace yourself.”

“Eh, what - _eck!_ ” Gintoki grabs the boy by the armpits and Shinpachi twitches at the intrusion. Then, in an audible _beat_ , they’re in the air. Shinpachi screams in a high shrill sound. The ground disappears, again, and he finds it creates an unpleasant hole in his gut with the same sort of pressure that's against his ears. “EEAAH!” He shouts as his face almost brushes the building in front of him, "C-C-CLOSE!"

“Oi, calm down will you!” So Shinpachi shoves a hand in his mouth. The screams don't stop but the complaints do and the shrill ringing being muffled does wonders for Gintoki's ears. For the first time, Shinpachi looks back but beyond the mans white attire there's nothing. "People are sleeping, you're gonna get me in trouble."

It's just a few seconds before they’re on top of the building. Shinpachi’s panting with hands on his knees but the winged male just rolls his shoulders and looks towards the horizon.

This time Shinpachi can actually see. Gintoki's looks younger than he had thought - way younger. Shinpachi didn't think the silver haired man was _that_ old, he was too strong. But this man seems to be maybe a decade older than himself rather than two. Though the younger age matches much better with how rude he's come off. With the terminal to Gintoki’s back, Shinpachi can finally sees the wings in all their glory.

They’re huge and heavy with feathers. Shinpachi finally understands just _why_ they're so hard to see. Those wings are the sort of black that absorbs no light, it just bounces right off. The wings themselves are sharp, not like the typical birds that fly around the dojo. But he thinks they match the man before him. In a gust of wind, Gintoki flaps his wings once before drawing them back into himself.

Shinpachi finds himself at a loss for words. 

Then Gintoki turns around towards the terminal.

The back is much the same: dark, and Shinpachi almost can’t see it. But he manages, although it brings about that headache immediately. The feathers close to the base are small and look so fluffy he wants to touch them. He manages to stop himself but only barely.

“Do you know where they might be?”

“Oh, ah.” Shinpachi looks out across Oedo too. They could be anywhere, couldn’t they? So Gintoki scans the city with his keen eyes, looking everywhere in sight while also analyzing the umbrella.

“Let’s go,” he says and tucks the umbrella in his waist band.

“But I-” The man faces Shinpachi and again opens his wings.

“You ready?” With a low mumble, Shinpachi turns around and Gintoki once again grabs him underneath his arms. In a _whoosh_ of air, they’re gone. Shinpachi doesn’t scream this time. And for the discomfort of his underarms he manages to ignore it in favor of the view. It takes a few calming breaths of _he won't drop you he's strong,_ but slowly he manages to keep his eyes open and look at his city.

It’s beautiful, looking down at Oedo. He can see so much yet so little. No one's really out but he can spot where the stalls would be set up. He watches people pass under flickering orange lights: police on patrol, some drunk, a couple heading to a love hotel (although Shinpachi can't be sure.) So long as he ignores the fact that there’s nothing between him and the ground, it’s actually pretty nice. The lights, the dying city as it prepares for another day of work, the low _hum_ of street life. He can’t imagine what it must be like to fly at will. He probably won't get such a view again.

Although it is cold. It bites at any exposed skin, making him shiver and bristle, nipping at him. The night's been cold and unforgiving, but up above the cold doesn't matter. It's more refreshing than anything, a welcome breath of fresh air with a new sight. It makes his cheeks burn and twitch in anticipation.

Like a rebirth, except this man's too vulgar to create anything like that.

It takes Shinpachi a moment but he falls back into reality. And he notices that they aren't headed for the terminal. Instead, Gintoki soars towards the dock full of ships ready to fly off into the sky.

“If they aren’t here then it’s your turn,” Gintoki says and although the wind is deafening, Shinpachi does manage to hear him. Albeit every other word, so he gets the gist. But if they aren't there Shinpachi isn't sure where they could be. Unless they aren't in Oedo City, and in that case he isn't sure what can be done.

For the first time in their glide, Shinpachi hears the _beat_ of Gintoki's wing. It's more of a wall of pressure in his temple than anything but it draws the boy from his thoughts. They're descending, slowly, and each soft _beat_ of Gintoki's wings eases their descent towards the many buildings.

Another _whoosh_ of feathers and Shinpachi's feet are brushing the ground. Thankfully, his wings are relative silent so Shinpachi doesn't feel the need to stress. Especially when it's so dark. Although Gintoki's attire is distractingly white, Shinpachi gets the feeling that he doesn't get spotted in these important scenes.

Gintoki drops Shinpachi and doesn't wait for the boy to settle before falling to the roof in a heavy _thud._ Although he gives Shinpachi a once-over, just in case, and creeps towards the edge. Shinpachi follows and looks over the edge of the building.

There's movement, more movement than their should be so late. So they direct their attention to the hub and wait for any sign of Shinpachi's family. It doesn't take long before Shinpachi spots a familiar face.

“Ah - there!” He whispers and points to the long-nosed male.

“Ew,” Gintoki groans. They look weak and gross. So how’d they get the yato?

“Aneue, we’re coming,” Shinpachi whispers but Gintoki catches it. From the corner of his eye, he looks at the young boy.

He’s shaking, and while there’s a sword in his hand, it’s a practice sword. He clearly has never used it outside of his dojo. He might piss himself if they go to battle, that or get himself killed. Gintoki would much prefer the former.

But there’s a gleam in his eye that tells Gintoki he’s going to help. He’ll be virtually useless but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. It’s a look Gintoki has seen more times than he cares to admit. And, like many times before, he promises that this kid won’t get hurt.

And this time, _this time_ he will follow through.

“For a cherry boy, you’ve sure got some spirit,” Gintoki says and for a moment the trembling stops. Then the kid huffs and his knuckles whiten. Maybe cherry boy is the wrong title for him, Gintoki thinks, but that's not a priority and he doesn't even know if he'll see the kid again so what does it matter?

Although Gintoki can admit that he doesn't mind the kid. He can get annoying, but there's a certain quality about him that makes Gintoki think he'll stick around.

It's probably the glasses.

The sun begins its rise and they see the warmth before they feel it. The ocean sparkles in the distance, red and orange tendrils brush the dark surface before the sun fully peaks over. When it does, the horizon glows a rich and bright orange and Shinpachi can't help but stop. He hadn't seen such a beautiful sunrise before. When was the last time he had seen a sunrise? He can't be sure but he has to watch this one, this one time when he can feel appreciation for it swell in his heart. It makes him forget everything for a sweet, short moment.

This horrible night will end, it will, and on the other side Shinpachi can almost taste the crisp sunrise that will be his new family.

That is, assuming they find what they're looking for.

Shinpachi looks over to the winged samurai, expecting to see a hint of the same fascination in his heart. But the man is focused on the port beneath him, eyes narrow and sharp although his stoic face would say otherwise. He seems bored, but his hand is resting on his bokuto and he hasn't even looked at the sunrise itself. Shinpachi can't help but question the man before him. And what a strange man he is, helping Shinpachi before even asking for his name, and flying around so late at night instead of abandoning the kid for the chance to sleep. A strange man indeed. He's too crazy to be the sort of samurai Shinpachi had ever looked up to before, but he's too strong to be anything else.

But his eyes - they're straight. And nothing seems to pull him away from whatever he's looking at. And that, more than anything, makes Shinpachi call that man, whether he's an amanto or human, a samurai.

But they can’t stay forever and the ants beneath them begin moving.

Shinpachi yawns. He tries to hide it but the hours had passed without him even realizing. Sunrise? He hasn’t slept for too long and he isn’t sure he can manage fighting like this. It hits him as hard as those black wings and his eyes heavily droop. _No,_ _have to fight._

“Hey, no sleeping on the job.”

“I know,” Shinpachi says as he bites back another yawn. Shinpachi doesn't look at Gintoki but he feels the man's gaze linger for a bit too long. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, Gintoki bows down and flattens his wings against the roof as the sun continues its rise. The world lights up in bright bursts as the sun hits more of the world, showing everything to them. But that only creates the risk of being seen. They can’t afford to be spotted, not until -

“Aneue!” Gintoki yanks the child down rather harshly. But he had seen his sister and moved on impulse. It’s both Tae and Kagura, both asleep - _drugs_ , Gintoki assumes. And they’re being carried onto the ship, _not good_. “Gin-san, we have to-”

“Your goal is your sister and Kagura. Don’t deviate from that,” Gintoki says before standing up. Clearly this kid can't wait, and Gintoki won't make him. The two are being moved into the ship and that would make things much harder. No, better to move now.

They don’t see him at first; none of them think to look up.

Shinpachi watches as Gintoki creeps to the edge. He doesn’t spread his wings fully but they ruffle open enough. Each feather shifts in preparation and it holds Shinpachi's attention, how they hardly move in the wind and sit at the beck and call of Gintoki and only Gintoki.

Then he leaps.

“Gin-” Shinpachi almost screams after him but he stops. _Your goal is your sister and Kagura. Don’t deviate from that_. So he watches Gintoki torpedo into the center of those people, mesmerized by something he never thought he would see, but he doesn’t stay long. He has to get to his sister and Kagura.

So he misses most of the battle.

In a nearly silent descent, Gintoki is at the bottom in less than a second. Once he’s close enough, he snaps out his wings. They catch in the air, the resistance creating a deafening gust of wind and he would be thrown if it stopping in such a way weren't a skill he had honed.

They shout and scramble away, hands not yet on their weapons. In the first gust of wind, the nearest people go flying and slam into nearby structures. The others tremble as Gintoki stays where he landed, surrounded by a plume of dust and an array of thrown objects. He's bent towards the ground with wings still pointed in the air, one hand braced against the ground. Most everyone is frozen in the shadow of this wings. Slowly, he stands, leaving his wings spread and his gaze unbending. Then he pulls out his bokuto.

They all lunge together but that just makes things easier.

Gintoki goes low and spins, wings spread so he knocks many of them off their feet and to the floor. They hesitate, shouting orders to do this and that but none of them succeed.

Gintoki raises his weapon for the first time and they visibly flinch, eyes stuck on the threat that is him. But he isn't given a chance as they hear the screech of tires rather than a demonically angelic cry.

They look with hardly a turn of their heads and are met with flashing blues and reds.

 _Are you shitting me?_ Gintoki curses his luck as they get out of their cars and point very real swords at them. The criminals freeze at the sight of the police, as does Gintoki.

“Shinsengumi! You’re under arrest-?” The shout comes strong and powerful. At first. Then they see Gintoki standing in the center with almost everyone around him knocked out and paralyzed. Not even the police know what to do and, well, the element of surprise _is_ Gintoki's specialty. He lowers his weapon but the arrogant smirk doesn't leave, making the amanto around him bristle and glance his way. Then he opens his wings wide and draws them back. He sets his stance, wide and centered.

His wings snap forward, and while he doesn’t fall, it’s a movement of pure strength that throws the people to his front into the ship behind them. They slam into the metal and some of them even dent it in a deafening _boom_. In the silence of the battlefield, it echoes.

The battlefield remains silent, everyone gawking at the show of force. But the police have a duty and, slowly, they begin cuffing the criminals. But the Shinsengumi can't tear their eyes away from the winged warrior.

Two of them walk towards Gintoki. However, the winged man doesn't remove his gaze from the remaining enemies. Plus, Gintoki has never had a good relationship with the police and that isn't going to start now, not if he can help it.

The two officers eyes Gintoki, gazes sharp and inquiring. This person or amanto, whatever they are, took almost all of them down with only his _wings_. And yet he stands bokuto at the ready should any of them move. They don’t and the Shinsengumi aren't sure what that means but they can only hope this person is on their side. After all, the only people they know that can hold an battlefield in the palm of their hand are their commanders.

“Hijikata-san, what about him?” The short one with sandy hair asks. Gintoki doesn’t pay attention to him though. Instead, he blatantly looks above their heads, silent but with a brow cocked. When he spots Shinpachi beside his two charges, Gintoki finally draws his wings so tight they can hear they feathers press and strain.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” someone says and Gintoki levels them with a gaze. Typically, people wilt under Gintoki, but this person doesn’t even flinch. His steel eyes meet Gintoki’s and dare him to do something. “What the hell are you doing here? This is a police investigation.”

“It is? But they promised me a free parfait.”

“What?” Now the man stutters and stares at Gintoki.

“Well, my parfait, where is it?” Gintoki turns to the amanto who he assumes is the boss considering his air of _I-just-shit-my-pants-this-is-my-ship-going-down_. You know, that sort of face. The man squeals under Gintoki’s gaze but he doesn’t care. “No parfait?” The amanto doesn’t get out a word before a _Lake Touya_ bokuto is at his throat, “Okay, how about those girls you kidnapped?”

Now _that_ gets the police's attention, not that Gintoki cares in the slightest. The amanto doesn't piss himself. After all, the sword at his neck is wooden. But the fear in his eyes is palpable and his bones rattle underneath it. He isn't sure what he's looking at, but those eyes are as humane as his wings. He's promising something that might be worse than death and the amanto doesn't doubt how real that threat is.

Without breaking eye contact, Gintoki takes his weapon back and, in a clean flick of his wrist, he stabs it straight into the ground. Into _stone_. And while the hard material cracks underneath his strength, the bokuto doesn't break.

The amanto jumps back, eyes wide and now words are tumbling from his lips. He'll need a change of pants soon but Gintoki hopes he'll have to sit in that discomfort for a long time.

"A charge of kidnapping as well?" Gintoki leaves his bokuto and opts to wipe any dirt off of his clothing.

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it."

"You'll have to come in for questioning," the man says and once again Gintoki meets that steel gaze. He just stares back, bored and annoyed. He has places to be, JUMP to read, naps to be appreciated. He doesn't have the time for the police and their stupidity. And the Shinsengumi no less. He's heard about them, he'd rather not get involved.

So, he sticks a pinky in his nose. That gets a reaction, one that makes the officers cigarette fall from his lips and words tumble from his mouth.

"Me? I'm just an innocent civilian doing my civilian duties," Gintoki says in a lazy and mildly disrespectful drawl - or maybe Hijibaka-or-something is just reading too into it.

"Stopping a kidnapping hardly counts as a civilian duty," the policeman grounds out as he eyes the man's worn bokuto. He isn't sure if the man is an idiot or a genius for using such a weapon in the sword ban but he'd rather not deal with this guy. Does it count as a sword, or is he just an idiot that gets away with the wooden object because it's "just for show." Clearly, he knows how to use it.

"Eh? Are you telling me civilians _shouldn't_ stop kidnappings? What a police you are, you're one of those that only cares about the glory, aren't you. I don't want someone like you patrolling the streets." Disrespectful, Hijikata decides. Very much so. This man with the silver perm clearly does _not_ like police, seeing how he's trying to make Hijikata's job harder. It makes Hijikata grind his teeth as he meets those dull eyes.

"I agree but it'd be better if someone like that didn't exist at all," the sandy-haired male finally speaks up with a sagely nod. Gintoki looks to the young samurai, a single brow raised.

"Even your fellow officers hate you? Maybe that would be better." Hijikata doesn't know much about the winged amanto but he notices pretty quickly that there's a sadistic duo in his midst. And it seems they've noticed too if that shared look is anything to go by.

"Would you like to do the honors?" The younger of the two asks and he even draws out his sword. Surprisingly, Gintoki doesn't play along and taking it, but he's no less involved. "Two birds with one stone - ah, literally." Gintoki blinks once. Was that a pun? Did this kid really - well, he could ignore that. Threatening to kill someone who is clearly his superior? That's admirable.

"Ya know? You're not half bad, Souchiro-kun."

"And you're not half bad for an amanto."

 _What is happening?_ Hijikata blanks as the two suddenly grow too close for comfort. They're standing side by side now, snickering behind hands and glancing Hijikata's way every other second. It's infuriating and he just _knows_ the idiot will stick around for longer than necessary. It's grating, really. And how Sougo doesn't mind it is beyond him. That it until he begins interrogating the silver samurai about his wings - his _black_ wings.

Now, Hijikata won't let his brain finish the sentence of _is that-_ because no, it isn't. Because the winged samurai in the Joui War _didn't exist_. And even if it did, it wouldn't have this sort of blasé attitude. But he _did_ subdue all those amanto. And he has arrogance to spare. What if he has the skill to back it up? And how can Hijikata figure it out?

Hijikata turns when he finally has his ducks in a row. But he blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.

They're gone. Both the winged samurai and Sougo - just, gone. Without a word.

_"Sougo!"_


	3. Amanto, Human - Who Cares? He's Still an Asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you don't have a choice on the baggage you carry. Sometimes, it labels itself 'carry on' and just comes for the ride.

Sougo found himself at the Yorozuya flat in no time alongside Tae, Kagura, and Shinpachi. He had gotten Yamazaki to drive the humans while the winged amanto handed the boy his card and promised to meet them there.

None of the passengers knew quite where 'there' was, although Snack Otose rang a bell.

Sougo sent Yamazaki off with the threat that he had _better not tell anyone where they were_. So he could be trusted until Hijikata got to interrogating him. Maybe that gave him... and hour? Yamazaki would be the first person Hijikata would turn to.

"So you owed them money, huh?" Sougo asks the Shimura siblings. Just to make sure Hijikata can't get made at him, he gathers the whole story. More than curious about how Gintoki proved to know next to nothing about the people he just saved. And they him. Who does that nowadays? As a policeman, Sougo is more than familiar with how little a person goes out of their way to be good. And someone like Gintoki wouldn't break that statistic. So why had he?

Speaking of Gintoki, he's been oddly quiet. Or maybe not oddly, Sougo can't be sure. But the man's just been staring with a bored gaze that drifts from faces to shoulders to a spot on the wall. There are bags under his eyes, but they aren't so heavy, more a permanent characteristic than anything. He doesn't seem tired - exhausted, for sure, Shinpachi won't stop mentioning the lack of sleep - the lines in his face aren't so prominent. His light skin far from waxy and he almost glows in their company (at least as much as they can expect him to, given how little he seems to care.) And he smiles, albeit dully and with an air of indifference that would irritate anyone else. And Sougo knows just who will absolutely _hate_ it.

Kagura won't stop pestering him, poking fun and bickering about anything she can.

"And you will feed us, yes?" Kagura says, _again._ Gintoki just sighs, having exhausted all other responses. She's been this incessant bug in his ear, bringing about the hyperactive energy of a dog. Which he told her. To which she responded that she would _love_ a dog, yes!

She's ridiculous and Sougo can't be sure why Gintoki hasn't kicked her out yet.

"Yeah, yeah, but don't you eat me out of house and home, you yato," Gintoki says before standing straight and scolding the yato - from behind the couch.

They thought it was odd at first, him not sitting with them. That was until he explained that, really, it was a pain in the ass to sit with wings. It's why his desk has that creaky old stool that they think only spins because of a few loose screws. As Gintoki sets about putting together rice and... something, Kagura heads to the kitchen with pleas falling from her lips.

"I'm poor, I'm poor!" Gintoki repeats at her but he knows it's useless. She's on a roll, eyes squinted and mouth open wide as she talks of this and that, of samurai and food. Mostly food. Gintoki can't help but laugh in a low chuckle that rumbles from his chest. He runs slender fingers through his hair as she just keeps going, floating around him as if _she_ were the one with wings. A fairy. A food fairy.

"-and I want _egg_ and _soy sauce_ and-"

"You yato-"

"And what are you?" She asks as she finally snatches one of his wings. She'd been trying to the whole time but he'd easily evaded her and even swatted at her a few times with a spatula or the wing itself. But they're much too large, _beautiful,_ the word won't stop spilling from her lips. She can't tear her eyes away and her hands wander, reaching for glossy black feathers and ghosting any place they brushed away dust or left little black tufts.

She doesn't even care to meet Gintoki's gaze when they talk, never looking far from any twitch or movement behind him in that mass. But Gintoki doesn't seem to mind, and while he's been careful to stay from her reach, he hasn't berated her for the intense staring.

Except, the question throws him off-guard. _What are you?_ f He's been asked that more times than he can count. But the way Kagura asks, with her eyebrows hiked up beneath her bangs and such a soft hopefulness in her smile - what could Gintoki say?

Those wandering hands don't wait and he's too frozen to stop her.

The _yank_ is hard, maybe Kagura had expected he'd fight her, or maybe she hadn't meant to do it at all. But it pulls an undignified squawk from Gintoki's throat as the tug throws him off balance. He stumbles and his other wing spazzes out, hitting a cabinet and swiping over the counter. He doesn't have the chance to catch the clattering dishes.

After his shout, Kagura had let go as if she had burned him, eyes wide and panicked, fists clenching and weight shifting as her gaze flicks all over him. As Gintoki gains his bearings and pulls his wings in - not as tightly as before, she notices - she can't help but tremble underneath that suddenly heartless gaze. She pales.

"I'm - did I hurt you? Are you okay?" The words tumble from her lips in a practiced discomfort. Gintoki scans the counter. What they had been cooking had survived, for the most part, but they'll have to gather new serving dishes. Luckily, this sort of thing happens to him more than he'd like to admit so the dishes survived as they had many times before. He doesn't respond and he doesn't relish in how Kagura's eyes fall low, pupils small and chin trembling. He doesn't.

But he does roll his wing, checking it and making sure her yato strength didn't do any real damage. The base hurts, but that's more of a background hum in daily life. He shouldn't have carried the cherry boy like that, and to top it off the freezer's been acting up so an ice-pack won't be his saving grace tonight. Maybe the old hag downstairs will have something.

He flexes his wing and pushes it out a smidge. Enough.

"Wings are delicate, you know. Just be careful, Gin-san doesn't have the money for a doctor."

"More like a veterinarian," Shinpachi whispers. He hadn't meant to make a sound and he took care in ignoring the chaotic duo. But he couldn't help himself, and after being with Gintoki for a straight twelve hours at _least_ _,_ Shinpachi doesn't have the patience to filter nor the filter to apologize.

"Don't be a smartass, Cherry Boy," Gintoki calls without even looking over his shoulder. Shinpachi's heart drops and he snorts into his tea, splattering the lukewarm brown all over himself. He winces and whines, grumbling because _how did he hear me?_

But in these past hours he's learned to not really question Gintoki.

Kagura's back on Gintoki's wing. She'd picked up the bowls and set them in the sink, but the spilled grains she'd do later, like he'd said. But once all that was done she hovered. Didn't say a peep and would only tear her eyes away from those once alluring wings to look at the dirty floor.

Gintoki fluffs up his wing (the one she hadn't pulled, she notices,) and pushes it towards her. The feathers rustle in their silent beating before settling once more, looking like the perfect blanket they are. One even floats to the ground. Since Gintoki isn't looking, she bends and picks it up. The yato stares for a moment and touches the fluff at the bottom. With one finger, she runs along the vane and watches each individual black barb bend and bounce as she passes. It glistens in the light with a soft blue undertone, but even that's hidden underneath the pureness of the black itself.

"You wanna keep that?" Kagura jumps and drops her hand to her side, eyes wide and mouth dropped. "Not like I need it. Lose 'em all the time." She looks down at the feather and twists it in her hand.

"Can I touch your wing?"

"A feather isn't enough?" But he stretches his wing out to her and brushes the ground near her feet. "Just don't tug." And he gets back to cooking. So, slowly, Kagura reaches and caresses those wings. The feathers bend as her hand glides across the surface.

"Aneue," Shinpachi speaks up, voice low in the wake of whatever has been happening in the kitchen. He'd watched most of it until it calmed with Kagura almost petting those wings. But then it seemed... too intimate. Shinpachi couldn't not tear his eyes away, not as Kagura slipped herself under that wing and stood by Gintoki as he mumbled to her and finished everything up.

It made Shinpachi's stomach churn and no amount of cold tea seemed to fix it the tug on his heart.

"So, you really just met him today?" Sougo asks. He could almost believe it were a scam, no way three people could click together so fast - except, that's exactly what he's witnessing. First hand he's witnessing something so strong he can almost see it. It's in the way their eyes flick to meet or how they bicker on the border but never going too far.

How they've proven so quickly just how far they'll go for each other.

"Last night, yeah," Shinpachi admits and stares into his glass, "though I think he was just out drinking. I don't know what I would've done if I didn't run into him then."

"Well then, It's a good thing you did," Tae comforts as she places her tea down. She too had realized the same as Sougo. She could see what was happening, clear as day. And even Gintoki was starting to make sense. Maybe she'll understand him after a few more episodes ~~chapters?~~.

"You don't know who he is, do you?" Sougo asks and that draws their attention. Like a wire, their heads snap up and stand - like the Shinsengumi when Hijikata scowls at them. Man, he wishes that wild amanto were here, he'd never get another chance at seeing her like that.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not surprised you'd know, Souchiro-kun," Gintoki says as he walks in with three plates while Kagura has her own - one that is piled to the _brim_ it's about to topple over. The statement cuts Shinpachi's train of thought in half and he just looks between the two, mouth open and brows creased.

Then the plates get set in front of them - all of them, Sougo included. The officer isn't sure what Gintoki's plan is but the winged man's already turned away from them. This time, he sits at his desk and crosses his arms on it, stool squeaking below him all the while.

"Gin-san?" Shinpachi prods. "Know what?"

"'R yuh e-eguhl 'oo?" Kagura _tries_ to say between bites but between the splatter of food the words fall flat.

"Ew, Kagura-chan!" Shinpachi screeches at her and she just grins back at him.

"What?" Gintoki asks because she isn't explaining herself. She blinks at them and swallows all the food in one inhuman _gulp._

"Are you illegal too?"

They pause and stare at her, waiting for the words to magically change. She just blinks back at them.

"I should've guessed." Gintoki face palms. You don't just _tell_ someone that. Let alone an officer of the law.

She's an illegal alien! A literal illegal alien, what planet is she even from - oh wait, he knows that. This shouldn't be hard.

"Wow, two arrests, I'll become the Vice Chief at this rate," Sougo drawls between his own bites. He finds that he can't stop eating Gintoki's food. He supposes it makes sense, being good with the meager ingredients he must have. Might as well enjoy what you have, or something like that.

"Two? Two? Aneue, what did you do?" Shinpachi spins to look at Tae. But she's eerily calm in a close-eyed smile 

"Shin-chan," she _coos_ and that's when the warning bells really go off. They hardly have a chance before she's the reincarnation of Sakura's Inner self (from the one with the Ninja, ya know,) eye shining and fist raised.

Shinpachi slams into the table with a _boom_ _,_ denting it and the rising smoke doesn't bode well. Gintoki's too pale to even squeak at the destruction, the words caught in his throat. He only barely managed not to fall with a short ruffle of his wings.

Sougo sits just as frozen, eyes wide and he's staring at Tae before slowly, as if this predator might turn its rage to him, turning to meet Gintoki's gaze. That shaky, confused, I-saved- _this_ -thing-today red gaze.

"You know it isn't me," she growls and while the words have a sweet edge the smoke is still rising from her fist.

Maybe they should arrest her, just in case. At least keep an eye on her. Someone that powerful and violent can't have no record. He'll have to bring it up to Kondo, that should work.

"No, not you. Mr. Amanto," Sougo says and, again, Gintoki hardly reacts. He'd clearly accepted this outcome, though the amused crinkle of his eyes catches them off guard. He just sticks his pinky in his nose, an action Kagura _immediately_ imitates.

"Kagura-chan, you can't - wait, Gin-san? I know you guys found him there but he didn't do anything," Shinpachi, the poor idiot, just rambles with eyes swirling and a bead of sweat finds itself rolling down his temple. "Honestly, if anyone else is getting arrested, it should be - it would be - wouldn't it be me? I mean I-"

"Even if you _tried_ you couldn't get arrested, you're a Cherry Boy, a Megane-kun - oh," Gintoki pauses, holding everyone's attention. "That's it, your official name: Megane-kun." He nods and the crossed arms just add to the faux serious that seems to be his life. "Can't you picture it, Kagura?"

"Megane-kun!" She echoes in a wide smile. "Megane-kun, yes, I like that, yes." She joins Gintoki in his nodding.

"With his true name, he'll be an important character-"

"That old name was too boring. This one will inspire fanfics, spinoffs-"

"What? No, my name's Shinpachi." He tries to stop it but Gintoki and Kagura don't slow in the slightest.

"Super Power: He can disappear in crowds-"

"But without his glasses he's nothing, yes?"

 _"I'm not boring!_ "

"Shin-chan," Otae says, but the sweet words are eerily calm for the chaos they froze, "you can be boring."

The shatter of Shinpachi's heart is audible. Sougo would feel bad if it weren't so satisfying. If the Grinch-like features the duos have are anything to go by, they couldn't begin to feel bad (but they've already clicked, and this teasing won't destroy Shinpachi. He's sure that, in a weird way, they wouldn't let it.)

"Ah-Aneue," and he drops his head. Why was he still here? In the house of a criminal, apparently. A criminal who just found his partner in the crime of relentless bullying, that is.

"Don't worry, Megane-kun. I'm the main character so you'll be fine," Gintoki speaks up and Shinpachi pops back into the conversation. Long enough, at least, to meet Gintoki's bland gaze and spot a brotherly look that freezes Shinpachi's heart. Long enough for it to stutter and his lungs to sieze but then he's breathing again.

"Yup, and I'm the leading female heroine, yes?" And the world goes on. Shinpachi smiles and straightens himself before fixing his glasses.

"Do you guys think life's a manga or something? How old are you?" He bites back.

"13, yes."

"Who cares," Gintoki says and Shinpachi snorts out a laugh.

All the while, Sougo has found himself in an oddly comfortable silence. He just watches the trio interact with a sort of nostalgic familiar flow. Bickering and prodding relentlessly. He watches their eyes crinkle as they break for a moment, laughing at an insult before a retort tumbles out. Gintoki pops in enough to keep it from going too far with childish excitement, yet not so much that Kagura feels controlled. Shinpachi, for all the jokes he's the butt of, doesn't falter. Doesn't stay down because that pair of idiots has just as many holes as him. He just hasn't found them all yet, but he will.

They slow themselves down with the air of more Gintoki interjections about how _Megane-kun needs to learn to live like this now._

So, Sougo takes his chance. The time's been ticking and while he likes to keep tabs on Hijikata, the man can be unpredictably fast when angry.

Plus, it's already been an hour. He must know something's up (yet no calls.)

"Before Danna adopts the illegal amanto, I should decide whether or not I'm gonna arrest him, huh?" It's a rude interruption. Kagura's in the middle of laughing, as is Shinpachi, but Gintoki had noticed Sougo's shift. He watched the officer sigh and breathe.

The conversation freezes and Kagura sucks all the air out of the room, her and Shinpachi, except hers was more audible. She chokes for a second and Shinpachi places a hand on her back.

"You, you're serious?" Kagura asks, words falling from suddenly numb lips. Her eyes flick to Gintoki, creased with worry. Would he let the officer take him (why does she care?) Kagura isn't sure but she hopes... she hopes Gintoki can stay. She'd always been told that people would use her for her strength and her blood but Gintoki hadn't. He's teased her about it but not once has he cared. She almost hurt him, she _had_ hurt him, and he still let her touch his wing.

She won't let that sadist take him.

"Well, there's only one person in the known universe with wings and they aren't amanto."

The sentence rings in Kagura's mind. She freezes, pale brows raising and jaw flopping open. She bounces the thoughts in her head, ticking at the contradictions set in stone. She blinks, rapidly, and looks to the winged male.

"Eh? Gin-chan's an amanto, yes?" She asks and it takes Gintoki a moment to respond. She's staring at him with oddly bright eyes, bright in the storms of tomorrow. He can't be sure it won't be an explosion of anger, not with the way she's simmering in her seat, gaze unwavering.

"I think I'm fully human," he says but shrugs, more than aware that he'd never been entirely sure. Only one person had told him in utmost confidence. And that person has been gone for a long, long time. "Sure doesn't stop people from calling me amanto." Kagura's eyes flick to his wings. Even she had thought he was an amanto, and everyone thinks _she's_ the human of them.

Now wouldn't that be fun.

"We should charge people to guess which of us is the amanto, yes?" She finally says and Gintoki cracks a wide smirk, eyes shining at the prospect of making money.

"Welcome to the Yorozuya." Kagura jumps from her spot on the couch.

"Yorozuya Gin-chan's second in command, at your service." She salutes him and puffs out her chest. "First order of business, get a dog."

"Shouldn't your first order of business be to _not_ get arrested," Shinpachi sighs, exasperated by their stupidity. They both look at him, each with a finger in their nose.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that," Gintoki sags and eyes Shinpachi for a moment. "You'll be our straight man."

"Yeah - wait, what is that?"

"What?" Shinpachi doesn't screech but his brain slows to a full stop because _that_ doesn't make sense - as a statement, it doesn't, you can't just - what?

"Well, Kagura, it's that one character that gives the reality-check and every once in a while is our punchline or something, ya know?" Gintoki says in his lazy drawl.

"I see, I see." Kagura nods a few times.

Shinpachi twitches, angry and half-bent on strangling something. But then he sighs and slumps over, his sister patting his back. Because he had already done both of those things, hadn't he? And many times over he's sure.

Sougo can't help but chuckle at it all.

"So you really are the Shiroyasha," Sougo says with a low whistle. It was more than obvious now. Gintoki knows he's the only thing that's got wings and he is more than familiar with the rumors about him. Let alone the fact that every officer has probably been told to keep an eye out for a winged samurai.

_I'm not surprised you'd know, Souchiro-kun._

Seldom does Gintoki have to explain just what the _Shiroyasha_ is. This time is no exception.

Kagura, so enamored by samurai, had of course followed every legend she could. The second she heard of a winged samurai she almost exploded. _Winged? Are they an amanto? And they're fighting for something important to them? A winged samurai?_ She was obsessed, telling anyone she could that she too could be like that. Shinpachi and Tae are full of different questions. They witnessed the stories of samurai grow twisted as the amanto took over. Hatred replaced pride and they learned to swallow their arguments.

The legend of the winged Shiroyasha was no different. People spoke in hushed tones, especially when someone would pray that said samurai would win. And they did win, for some time. Waves of successes swept across the nation for everyone to hear of. Except, they didn't _win._ They were never going to. But that wasn't enough to squash what little hope they had.

Shinpachi shakes his head at the thought. Gintoki was _not_ that famed warrior (but didn't he fight with such arrogance and precision, didn't he head into battle without a second thought, just like a demon?)

Kagura opens her mouth but she doesn't speak up, eyes sparkling and knee bouncing.

"I'm surprised you're the first person to come for me." He's heard his own rumors even after the war, they didn't die so easily (though he wishes they had.) People liked to overexaggerate and it was an easy thing to do when the truth was that a _human_ with _wings_ was ravaging the battlefields and _winning._ That alone was enough, they didn't need to add talons and myths.

Sougo doesn't miss how Gintoki doesn't fight it, doesn't claim to be anything less than he is, and the kids don't mind. They hardly react except for the awe that seeps into their forms. The excitement, the wonder.

Gintoki doesn't look at them once.

"I'm not coming for you, Danna. As far as I can tell, you're a model citizen," Sougo says as he looks at the spectators. Surely they had thought Gintoki was the Shiroyasha. The thought must pass everyone's mind, so how was he the first to act on it? Were they all honestly fooled by the man's attitude?

 _Yes,_ Sougo decides. But that's not so surprising. It's obviously not just the attitude. Regardless of what he had been in the past, right now he's an interesting fellow that clearly has no intention of doing wrong. A true samurai in his own unique way.

Sougo takes no time in leaving after that. Gintoki doesn't question just why Sougo won't arrest him, he isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, after all.

"Your superior," Gintoki asks as Sougo heads out the door. He's leaning against a wall in the hallway. Behind him, that odd trio is discussing something or another, Kagura way too animated but that only makes Otae laugh. "Hiji-what's-it, he'll stop by?"

"Probably. He's the Vice Chief, but I wouldn't tell anyone if you happened to kill him." They laugh but it's tight and cut short.

"Well then, I'll be seeing you, Souchiro-kun."

"It's Sougo."

* * *

Hijikata wasn't going to admit it, that idiotic piece of perm was _not_ the winged warrior of legend. So what he has wings, and they're black, and he's a swordsman - a samurai... that's pretty strong.

He isn't the _Shiroyasha_ (but then why else would Sougo take an interest in him.)

But the man's an idiot, a buffoon, and he's supposed to be lying low.

When he had seen those large black wings, it struck a chord straight through him and his heart stuttered. Then the man looked at him and opened his dumb mouth and proved that he was _not_ the Shiroyasha.

But still, for how irritating and un-warrior like the man seemed, he had to do his duties as a member of the Shinsengumi. He set about researching the man, using his anger towards the missing Sougo as his motivation. He plowed through the records and chain smoked all the while, growling and shouting out orders to anyone that crossed his path.

He doesn't find anything. Not a _single_ _thing._ Nothing outside of the fact that when the war ended rumors of his capture had circulated. And when the pervious Ikeda Yaemon released all those prisoners ten years ago, _he_ was believed to be amongst them. But Hijikata couldn't be sure which one had been the Shiroyasha.

Though the name _Sakata Gintoki_ caught his eye. But there was no way, no _way_ that the man's name had 'Silver' in it. That'd be a dead giveaway, he couldn't believe it.

But, being the diligent Vice-Chief that he is, he follows the small lead. He sits and reads until he runs out of cigarettes - _Yamazaki! More cigarettes or it's seppuku!_ \- and his legs grow cold and numb. He reads and reads about the man who had been at the helm of some odd business known as the Yorozuya. A business that's known to wreck some havoc. Most people don't seem to like the man, not if the filed reports are anything to go by, and yet... the lack of information makes Hijikata gnaw on cigarettes until they grow soggy and old. No law suits, no restraining orders, just people complaining as if it's about their old man of a neighbor. One they love to hate but love nonetheless.

It takes some more digging before he even finds out where the man lives - how _that_ managed to avoid the records rang alarms in Hijikata's head. For a man with a business, he seemed to lay low.

Like the Shiroyasha should.

Location in hand and _hours_ later than he would have liked (though the sun is still up, beginning to set in an orange glow but still up,) he heads out.

He decides to walk rather than drive, unsure of exactly where the Yorozuya is but Snack Otose had come up and he can go from there. Only, when he reaches the Kabuki-cho district, he finds the people eye him warily, avoiding his gaze but not letting him leave theirs. They stare, wary, and when he approaches them they slink away with a quick _I don't know._

Hostile, not unlike how the permed idiot had been.

It takes only a few mistakes of him interrogating people to realize that they were not going to tell any officer just where the Yorozuya was located. They grew defensive, eyes trailing the gold trimming of his outfit as they sneered at him. They wouldn't even tell him just what the Yorozuya would do, no offering information on his whereabouts, the bars he might frequent, or the jobs he'd take. Absolutely nothing.

It made Hijikata's face redden as he'd gnaw on a cigarette butt, fuming and stomping down the street.

 _Fine! I'll find it myself!_ In hindsight, he should've sent Yamazaki or anyone else, but he'd decided that _he_ would be the one to confront that permed menace.

And so he would be. He _would._

The sky grows to a burnt orange seeped in midnight black before he finds Snack Otose. And right above it, a sign that reads _Yorozuya Gin-chan._

Hijikata half growls half sighs at the sight, and with hands trembling in contained rage he lights - _fails,_ it clicks - he lights his (hopefully) last cigarette of the day.

So he stomps up the stairs and in dim light he eyes the chipped door. Hijikata knocks, a quick wrap of his knuckles, kept from being too heavy but nonetheless loud.

No response. He waits, polite, because this might not be the Shiroyasha. He knocks, again, this time heavier and it rattles the frame.

It shakes but otherwise, it doesn't budge.

Hijikata groans and spits out his cigarette, smearing it into the wood below and stomping for extra measure (not to get out pent-up aggressing, no, not at all.)

He raises his fist and beats against the door once more, one hand on his sword.

_"Open up!"_

_"Quiet up there!"_ The voice startles Hijikata. He looks over the bannister but doesn't see a face, only hears the grumbles from the owner underneath. She spits up at him, hissing about being quiet, and while Hijikata's sure she isn't yelling at _him,_ he was the one to make such a racket.

She's gone before he can apologize. But he's still looking over and gnaws on his lip. It was getting late, and while he'd like to do nothing more than bang this door down, he's still the Vice-Chief of the Shinsengumi and they're already _heavily_ disliked.

Then the door behind him slides open. He spins to face it and, by pure instinct, draws his sword enough for it to flash silver. He meets deadfish eyes and finds the man with a hand down his pants - pants? More like a pair of strawberry (what kind of samurai is he?) boxers, and he's topless, who answers the door like that? - and wings invisible in the darkness behind him.

"Whaddya want?" He slurs but before Hijikata can hiss out the response, he yawns _right_ in Hijikata's face. Warm breath fans Hijikata's face with a hint of sourness that makes him sneer. He doesn't even bother to cover it and instead places a hand in messy hair. Although, considering the mop on his head, Hijikata can't be sure it's messiness is out of the ordinary. "Oh, you're that cop."

"I am Hijikata Toshiro, Vice-Chief of the Shinsengumi." Gintoki blinks at the man. He's standing straight, like his spine was replaced by a pole (or there's a stick up his ass, yeah, he likes that better.) But his eyes simmer in an unpolice-like rage.

"With those eyes, and you're the _Vice-_ Chief. A bunch of hooligans you must be," Gintoki says before yawning once more and waving a lazy hand. "Nice to meet ya."

And then _he closes the door._ He fucking _closes. The. Door._ Right in Hijikata's face. Doesn't even say 'bye.'

Hijikata stands frozen for a short moment, eyes not leaving the wood before him. He almost expects the winged amanto to open it up with an _April Fools_ but he knows that won't happen. The man's too much of an asshole. He genuinely just _closed the door._

In Hijikata's face.

His blood boils and he bangs a fist against it, shouting obscenities as it rattles on its frame. His face numbs in the rage, burning and his eyes narrow, dark around the edges and pulsing. He ignores the shouting from below - hardly even hears the muffled words. He's an officer, dammit! And he has questions, and this - this buffoon - this piece of - _this asshat of a human-being-amanto-thing-_

This time, the door opens as he's about to hit it. A hand catches his fist and Hijikata freezes.

It's small. Far smaller than Hijikata imagines Gintoki's would be. He looks to those pale fingers curled around his knuckles, so thin and fragile.

When he goes to take said hand back, however, it doesn't budge.

"It's bedtime, yes?" He doesn't get the chance to see just who said that before there's a sharp pain in his head and his vision goes black, left with the image of vermillion to suffocate his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Not a GinHiji fic although have I written little oneshots along those lines and will I possibly post them separately? Yes - maybe? Yes.


End file.
